The Date
by Enide Dear
Summary: Vincent wants Cid to take him out on a date, to meet the pilot's old friends. But Cid is reluctant...


Title: Valenwind Date  
>Author: Enide Dear<br>Pairing: uh…Valenwind, d'oh!  
>Rating: cute<br>Summary: Cid and Vincent tries to go on their first offical date. Things get complicated

A/N: For Valenwind-luvers First Date contest!

"Ya'll be bored out of yer mind, Vince," Cid tried again. "It's jest a bunch of grumpy old pilots sitting around talkin' 'bout the good ol' times."

"I like grumpy pilots," Vincent smiled. "And the invitation did say 'Cid Highwind and date.' We've never been to a real date. It would be nice."

Cid looked hurt, turning to the rest of Avalanche that followed the exchange with interest.

"That's not fair! I made ya that dinner on the Highwind and everythin'!"

"He did," Cloud nodded. "We saw it."

"Yes but…"Vincent paused. "What do you mean, you saw it?"

"Glass floor," Tifa winked. "We saw *everything*."

"Yeah and now I can't loose the images," Barret muttered. "They're scorched to my brain."

Vincent glared at them but was distracted by Cid trying to use the distraction to sneak out the door. Fixing the pilot with glaring red eyes made him freeze, much like a dear in headlights.

"My point is, we never go out anywhere." Vincent's voice faltered a little. "Maybe…maybe you are ashamed of me?"

"No! Nononono!" Hurriedly, Cid ran over to the tall gunman and clutched his flesh hand. "Never think that! Of course I ain't ashamed of ya! It's jest that…it's jest that I've known these guys fer a long time - ever since Shina - and they'd expect me ta show up there with a woman…" Cid's voice trailed away as ruby eyes took on a demon flare. The pilot swallowed nervously and Avalanche, experienced fighters who knew when the shit was about to hit the fan, backed away slowly.

"Your friends don't know that you are gay?" Vincent asked with forced calm.

"I ain't gay!" Cid protested.

"Chief, we've slept together for a year! And you like taking it as much as giving it! You are gay!"

"I ain't gay! I only like ya, Vince!" Cid tried for a rather nice save, but the demon fire in Vincent's eyes suddenly turned deathly cold.

"What is that supposed to mean?" He asked icily.

"Well…ya know," Cid desperately gestured at the lithe body, the long hair and the porcelain skin, "Yer kind of girly…"

Vincent punched him. It wasn't a 'girly' punch either – although anyone who'd spent some time on the receiving end of Tifa's fists might argue that it was – and the pilot flew across the room, his nose spraying blood.

"What the Hell, Vince?" The blonde screamed, clutching the back of his head that had bounced off a cupboard, but the hurt and anger died away as two meters of irate gunman leaned over him, poking a metal claw in his chest.

"You are a hypocritical bastard, Highwind, and until you've decided who you are and who is more important – me or your friends – you can just fuck yourself with that overcompensating spear of yours!" The red cape fluttered out after him when he stormed away and smacked the pilot across his already bleeding nose, making him swear even more.

"What? I ain't overcompensating for anything!" Cid picked himself up from the floor and roared defensively at the staring group of misfits that constructed Avalanche. "Like the bunch of ya are the poster boys and girls fer healhty relationships!" Scrambling for the door, he fled the inn, leaving behind several accusing stares and more than a few curious glances at Venus Gospel.

"If you are a macho chauvinistic bigot of a pig, go away." Vincent's voice came muffled behind the door. "And if you are anyone else, go away anyway."

"Vince…please open the door." Cid pleaded. "I'm sorry, a'right?"

"No, Cid, it's not alright. You hurt me."

"I know! I…I'm jest a stupid old mechanic who cares too much about what other people think. I never meant ta hurt ya. Come out? Please?"

"What for? So we can fuck in the Highwind –again – and put on a show for the other perverts? What's even the point of leaving this room if you don't want to be seen with me?"

"'Cause I want ta take ya out. To the pilot reunion."

Silence from the other side of the door. Then the sound of a lock turning and a cautious burgundy eye peering out.

"To meet your friends?" Vincent mumbled, tiny hope in his voice.

"Yeah." Cid nodded, looking awkward but pleadingly honest. "I wanna…I wanna show you off ta all of them. As…as my fiancé. If ya want me." Cid's hands shook just a little as he more or less fell down on one knee, holding up a little box. Inside were two rings, little gold hoops with three red rubies on each. "I love ya, Vincent Valentine. Will ya…marry me?"

Vincent stared down on him for several seconds – a life time for Cid's rushing heart – and then, suddenly, he threw himself around Cid's neck, clinging on to him so hard the almost choked the blonde.

"Yes. Yes, you idiot! I will marry you. I will go with you to your friends' reunion."

"I won't hide anymore." Cid swallowed nervously but hung on to the lithe body. "I swear it!"

The door to the Annual Pilot Gathering was kicked open and a short, blonde and red-faced Cid Highwind stormed in, followed more sedately by a looming black and red presence.

"I am Cid, I'm flamin' gay, and if anyone has a problem with that they can take it up with my undead ex-Turk husband!" He shouted at the top of his lounges, arms flailing threatingly and blue eyes promising Hell to anyone who dared oppose him.

The room got very quiet as the twenty or so rough, weather bitten aviators stared at them, smoke from cigs curling it's silent way towards the roof and tea cups and whiskey tumblers temporarily forgotten. Then one of the older men present, a tough leather-skinned old man cleared his throat.

"Well," he said, lighting a new cig, "it was about damn time, Highwind."

Cid blinked. Vincent still hovered protectively over his smaller husband.

"What?"

"Oh, come on youngling." The old man sighed, ticking things of his fingers. "Ya've been surrounding yerself with phallic symbols all yer life! Yer spear Yer cigs. Yer spaceship. Yer gods-damned airship. We jest figured ya were so lost in the closet ya were closer ta finding Narnia than a good man ta take care of ya."

"So, eeeh," Cid scratched his head, still trying to wrap his brain around it all. "Yer all a'right with this?"

A general amount of shrugging shoulders and nods filled the room even as most people got back to whatever discussions they'd been in the middle off just before the rude interruption. Vincent gently took his husband's arm and led the confused blonde over to the old man with the cigs, sitting him down and getting them both a whiskey.

"This is *Gaia*, son." The old pilot patted Cid on his shoulder. "Gaya. Three-fourths of the population are gay, bi, or swinging. It ain't that big a deal."

"Yeah, but…"

"Probably the butts, yeah. Or the hair." The man nodded and glanced at him. "What the Hell happened ta yer nose?"

"Vince hit me when I was being an asshole." Cid downed the whiskey, putting a comfortable arm around the gunman's lean waist.

It was the old man's turn to blink.

"Really? And I though gay relationships were supposed ta be easier!"

Both Cid and Vincent stared at him.

"What," the both said in unison, "gave you that idea?"


End file.
